


Wrong Place, Wrong Time

by Pancakesaredelicious



Series: Cracktastic Prompt Fills [2]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, I'm Sorry, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 18:03:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9135280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pancakesaredelicious/pseuds/Pancakesaredelicious
Summary: Darth Vader was … a strange man. To say the least. Death Star personnel avoided him at all cost. There were times, if one were to stumble upon him alone in the corridor, they could hear him talking to himself. Well, talking wasn’t quite the right word; more like arguing with himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My friend gave me a silly fan fiction prompt so I decided to run with it: 
> 
> Write me a fanfiction about alt universe Star Wars where Darth Vader is really just a bunch of dwarves stacked on top of each other in a menacing cape. (Palpatine suspects nothing)

Working on the Death Star wasn’t a terrible job. Sure, it made you part of a fascist regime hell bent on bending the universe to its will, but it’s not like you could _quit_ . The only way off the space station was if you were fired; into outer space.  Leaving of your own accord was simply not allowed. After all, what if you gave vital information to the Rebels? Even a toilet scrubber might know _something_.

 _I suppose it’s better than being a Stormtrooper._ Daven mused. _Anything’s better than that._ He pushed his cart along with a sigh.

ATT1 chirped softly, telling Daven another restroom cleaning bot was in need of repair. The baseball sized droid skittered about on far too many legs, crawling all over the maintenance cart. “Okay, okay where is our broken buddy this time?” Daven asked ATT1.

The droid responded with three clicks and a long whistle.

“All the way over there huh?” Daven grumbled. He frowned, pushing the cart at a faster pace, almost a light jog. “Let’s hope it’s just something like a battery problem and not… a clogging issue.”    

ATT1 whistled in agreement.

It didn’t take them long to reach the corridor where the bot was sending the repair signal from. Thankfully there was no one in sight. Daven had gotten used to the eerie stillness that he wander through on each of his shifts. At the other end of the hallway was the restroom. However, as Daven made his way towards it, he heard a scraping thud coming from an alcove to his left.

The broken droid was bumping into the wall. Backing up only to run into the parallel wall, and moving forward again to hit the original wall. **_Thud-Shirek, Thud-Shirek, Thud-Shirek._ ** The robot was missing it’s left wheel.

Daven glanced around and could only find scratch marks on the floor. The droid had bumped along the wall a ways, only to turn into the alcove and manage to trap itself there. Reluctantly, Daven fluttered his hands across the cleaning bot’s surface, searching for the power switch. It made a wheezing whine as he shut it off. He quickly went to work trying to fit another wheel onto the machine, as well as check it for any other damage.

He heard footsteps down the corridor. A single pair of heavy boots, moving at a brisk pace in Daven’s direction. The swish of a cloak. Deep, raspy breaths.

Oh no.

In Daven’s panic to stand at attention, he knocked his wrench against something in the droid. That part happened to be the highly sensitive, _explosive_ battery that the older cleaning droids used. Apparently with how expensive running the Death Star was, the bigwigs decided to try to cut costs by using outdated droid models.

There was an ominous clicking sound, which then blurred into a shrieking noise. Daven lunged out of the alcove. Bodily tackling a much taller figure in the process.

The blast was less fiery than one would expect but more concussive. Daven and the other person were sent flying across the hallway. When Daven came to a skidding stop against the far wall, he was just relieved that he was alive.

Until he opened his eyes and saw who the other man was. Although, ‘man’ wasn’t entirely the right word for this situation.

Darth Vader laid sprawled against the ground. In five different pieces.

“Oh shit, shit, shit, _shit_!” Daven babbled. “I killed him!” Then he heard a groan.

_Five different groans_

Daven’s mouth fell open in horror as the pieces of Vader all stood on their own.

“You _dare_!” roared the head.

“I can’t see!” Cried the right leg.

“You’re not supposed to see, you idiot!” Snapped the left leg.

“What hit us?!” Asked the left arm.

“Would you all shut up!” Yelled the right arm.

“…I’m dead.” Daven decided. “I’m dead and this is my brain hallucinating just before the last spark of life leaves my body.”

The five pieces of Darth Vader uncovered themselves enough to reveal that they were actually five short, bearded men.

“What do we do now?!” Left Arm dwarf whined.

“Mind Trick him you fool!” The Right replied. He approached Daven, who hadn’t moved from where he had landed.

“You never saw us.” The dwarf ordered, waving his hand in front of Daven in a grand gesture.

“But I did,” Daven argued stupidly. The dwarf frowned. He repeated what he said before, but more forcefully. “Heard you the first time. Still not true.” Daven insisted.

The dwarves huddled together to confer quietly. It didn’t take them long to reach a decision.

“Now that you know our secret, you must die!” The Head dwarf proclaimed. He made a choking gesture at Daven like he was trying to squeeze the life out of him from six feet away. Daven cringed in anticipation.

…

Nothing happened. The dwarves and Daven looked perplexed.

“Wait, let me try.” Left Arm demanded.

…

Once again nothing.

Right Leg snarled and attempted to strike Daven down with lightning that shot from his fingertips. Before it could hit Daven, the electricity arched, carving up the wall beside him instead.

“Enough of this!” Left Leg shouted, summoning Vader’s lightsaber to his hand. Daven scrambled to get up. He sprinted down the hall, hearing the howls of the dwarves behind him.

 

He hurled himself around the corner, bouncing off a wall in the process. Down another hall, there was a series of doors and smaller hallways to choose from. Daven chose the door leading down into the depths of the Death Star. He leaped down the stairs, feet barely touching the floor before he launched himself down the next flight. His lungs were burning, breathes coming out scratchy and ragged.

After several floors, Daven dove out another door.

Startling the hell out of the officers crowded next to it.

Daven smiled apologetically, hurrying past them. He eyed the stairwell exit as he power-walked away.

No sign of the dwarves. _I’ll have to wait until it’s safe to retrieve my cart I suppose._ Daven decided. _I have no way of escaping this place. Maybe those dwarves will forget I saw them? If I don’t tell anyone, they’ll have no reason to kill me right?_ He frowned a bit as he remembered the attempted murder. _They can shoot lightning at people. Must be some kind of Space Wizards._ He shrugged, getting stares from a group of Stormtroopers he passed.

 _What a strange universe this is._ Daven thought. He fiddled with the locket dangling from his neck. It was larger than the average locket. The gold surface tarnished and dented in places. _But I can’t leave just yet._ He insisted.

Lips thinned into a firm line of determination. His spine straightened as Daven marched on.


End file.
